


Who Wears the Plance

by Some_Cookie_Crumbz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Also the Plance children are NOT my characters, And used with her full knowledge and consent, F/M, I'll add other characters as necessary., They are the creations of Aeiouna
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-02 09:39:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14541897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Some_Cookie_Crumbz/pseuds/Some_Cookie_Crumbz
Summary: Collection of Plance one-shots about them in stupid, domestic bliss. Pretty much all of them are/will be written for Aeiouna so I'm just gonna gift the whole collection to her.





	1. Game of Luck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aeiouna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeiouna/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Lance, being a Paladin of Voltron was a cake walk. Being parents to two clever and impulsive grade schoolers? That’s the real nightmare.

Settling back in to life on earth had taken a little bit of adjusting, but admittedly they fell back in to the familiar steps of earthling culture with time and assistance from family members. Pidge spent several months back home with her family before she went out to catch up with Lance and meet his family. The two had  acknowledged their feelings and agreed that it would be best to avoid pursuing anything until after the war relatively early. They figured it would be better than getting exceedingly involved and then potentially falling apart if one of them died – seeing as it was probable, given they were soldiers in an intergalactic war – or if they ended the relationship and were unable to work together as a result. The good of the universe came before their own selfish desires for a partner or committed relationship, after all.

As of now, they’d been living their life together happily for nearly twelve years.

They’d been in the kitchen that afternoon, discussing their plans to repaint the room and  _maybe_  replace the counters and back splash because  _they have been like this since we moved in nine years ago, Pidge, it is time for something modern and fresh please darling_. The front door of the house was abruptly thrown open, clattering loudly against the opposite wall, as two small figures came tearing into the kitchen. “Mama! Papa! Look, look!” The frantically eager chirp came from their oldest, Jasmine, as she darted in waving a paper above her head. The two had been settled at the island in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee each.

“Calm down, sweetness. How are we supposed to look at it with you waving it around like that?” Lance laughed, setting his cup down and taking the paper from her. Jasmine beamed up at him happily as he skimmed it and whistled. “Well, would you look at that! Straight A’s in all your classes so far this semester!” He mused before passing the paper over to Pidge to see as well.

Jasmine grinned even wider, golden eyes glinting in the fluorescent kitchen lights, as her brother slid up along beside her, offering up his own paper. “Here,” He said.

Lance quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t seem quite as excited as your sister, Dylan,” He commented as he took the page. The grade schooler shrugged and struggled to climb up on to one of the bar stools at the island. He then folded his arms on the surface of the island and rested his chin on it.

Pidge and Lance exchanged worried glances before reaching over to lightly ruffle his hair. “Didn’t do as well as you were expecting, bud?” She asked gently. He mumbled something to quiet to be heard in response.

Lance looked down at the page then smiled. “Why are you pouting, little guy? You’ve got A’s and B’s so far!” He laughed lightly.

“I’ve got a C in Math,” He huffed back before shoving his head down and hiding in his arms.

“Well, this is only a progress report,” Pidge chimed in, “and last semester, you were getting a lower grade. You’re clearly trying and showing improvement.”

Jasmine grinned as she hoisted herself into another one of the car stools. “So does that mean that you’re gonna take us to Pizza-Palooza like you promised?” She asked excitedly, either indifferent or willingly ignorant to her brother’s plight.

Pizza-Palooza was a small chain restaurant opened several weeks back for family-themed entertainment; or, rather, that was the claim. It was more a glorified money trap – at least as far as Pidge was concerned – that was loaded with games that required tokens for kids to play and win tickets and get prizes. There was a large sitting area for the families to dine in as well as providing a space for the parents to sit and relax while the kids ran rampant in the enclosed environment. Both kids had begged for the chance to go visit the place after seeing several commercials between their Saturday morning cartoons. Being eight and five respectively, it only made sense that the idea of such a place would still appeal to them.

With that, the McClain-Holt’s had struck a deal; as long as their grades on their progress reports were good, the family would make a trip out.

“Well, you’ve both shown improvement,” Pidge agreed with a small smile.

Dylan peeked up through his bangs, bronze eyes flickering in surprise. “Even though I still have a bad grade in Math?”

Lance chuckled and ruffled his son’s hair affectionately. “A C isn’t a bad grade, Dylan. Besides, just because you’re having a little trouble with it now doesn’t mean that you won’t get better as long as you keep trying. Believe me; I know a thing or two about succeeding after failures,” He said.

Dylan scowled a little bit. “I don’t believe you,” He mumbled back with a small huff.

“Aw, come on, Dylan! Remember when Papa had that terrible mustache a few weeks ago? That’s a great example!” Jasmine chimed in, clearly attempting to help perk her brother back up.

Lance smiled and nodded. “That’s ri- Wait a minute, what’s that supposed to mean?”

She blinked then flushed a little bit at her father’s backpedaling. “Well, I’m not saying it made you look ugly, Papa, it just made you look, uh,” She rambled, rolling her hands in a small circle around each other in front of her as she struggled to find the right words.

“It made you look like one of those heavy set middle aged guys who buys a motorcycle because they’re going through a mid-life crisis and don’t know a healthier way to cope,” Pidge provided blandly before taking a sip of her coffee.

Lance pressed a hand to his chest, insulted, and looked at her indignantly. “I don’t recall  _you_  ever complaining about it!”

“Because you  _chose_  to block my complaining out, apparently. Because I assure you I complained about it.  _Very often_  and  _very openly_ ,” She quipped back with a small snort.

“I would  _never_  block something like that out!”

She set her cup down and looked at him blandly. “Lance, you only shaved it off because I told you that if  _you didn’t_ , then  _I would_  while you were sleeping,”

While their parents were distracted with their philosophical debate about the merits of facial hair, Jasmine slid out of her chair and tugged Dylan along her with. “This is gonna be so much fun, don’t you think? I’ve been hearing a lot of my friends talk about Pizza-Palooza and how it has tons of games and really cool prizes and really tasty pizza! Can you believe we’re finally going to get to experience ourselves?” She gushed eagerly as they headed towards the staircase. She needed to get changed into something a bit more comfortable, she realized, and she’d need to be sure to grab her cell phone out of her school bag, too.

“Uh-huh,” Dylan hummed vaguely in acknowledgment. She stopped short and looked at him in surprise.

“Why are you so upset? Mama and Papa are still letting us go to Pizza-Palooza! And your grades are doing better than last term, too!” She pointed out, cocking her head to one side curiously.

He huffed and jammed his fists into his pockets. “I’m just… Sad, okay? I tried really hard to do better in Math this time around. I really wanted to get a B and I still couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried,” He sighed.

“Getting a B before progress reports wasn’t really likely, no matter how hard you worked, Dylan. You got it up as high as you were going to be able to, though, and that’s still really good! I’m sure you’ll be able to get it up to a B before the term ends, though!” She suggested happily.

He glared up at her briefly before his shoulders hunched even more and he pushed his way past her. “You just don’t get it, Jas,” He huffed before disappearing into his room to get ready to leave.

Jasmine watched him go before frowning and heading into her own room, vowing to herself that she was going to cheer her brother up before the night was over, one way or another.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

To say that the restaurant was bustling and lively would be an understatement. It was a huge venue – even bigger than Pidge and Lance had been expecting – with so many different attractions that Pidge wondered how they managed to keep everything in the place properly maintained. Then again, considering they’d had to set a reservation – Lance’s brilliant idea, considering he’d been aware of how busy the place was in the nearly three months since it opened – she figured they were making more than enough bank to afford the repairs. Or, judging by the state of the equipment, had most likely purchased all-new items to assure that they’d have enough durability to see through the steadiness of the opening months.

The set-up was clever, too, if she was honest. The building was two-story, with both floors being used surprisingly well. The first floor was the actual dining area and included a stage where, every forty-five minutes, the five animatronic characters would put on a show for the children. They mostly played covers of pop songs with the lyrics changed to match their respective animal and character tropes, but Pidge was a bit impressed with how fluidly the robots moved, and the kids seemed to enjoy the show, so she couldn’t complain. There were three doors off to the side, placed in between the dining area and the counter where payment could be made or dollars could be exchanged for game tokens, listed as “Party Room A”, “B” and “C” respectively. Just beyond the stage and the tail end of the counter area was another entertainment area that was gated off with other things for kids to do, and a spiral staircase that led up to the second story.

The kids had been given little wrist bands to wear that gave them entrance to the gated off area with the playground, ball pit and carousal. The wristbands would also gain them access to the game room on the second floor, but Lance had told them they weren’t supposed to go up there until after they actually had food. After they’d ordered their pizza, Jasmine had dragged her brother along with her to check out the gated play area while they waited. When they returned upon their order being delivered – and the two being called back to the table over the intercom, a feature that had pleased Lance’s ever-present paternal worry – Dylan’s spirits seemed to have been significantly lifted from before.

They both scarfed down their food, being chided about choking hazards multiple times, and then Pidge went over to the front counter. She returned and offered each of them a small paper cup with gleaming silver tokens inside. “Each of you are getting five dollars worth of tokens and no more, okay?”

“Thank you, Mama!” They chirped in perfect, exuberant unison before scampering off towards the gated area. They were practically jumping in place as they showed their wristbands to the teenager working the gate, and then tore a path right up the staircase to the games above.

Pidge laughed as she slipped back into her seat next to Lance at their booth. “I’m glad they’re so excited. They deserve to have some fun after how hard they’ve been working at school,” She mused happily.

Lance smirked at her, trying to slip an arm along her shoulders smoothly. She rolled her eyes affectionately but let him continue his attempt at flirtation. She wouldn’t have married him if she didn’t find these sad attempts endearing, after all. “I can think of something else they deserve for all their studying,” He said, waggling his eyebrows at her suggestively.

She raised an eyebrow as a grin turned up on her lips. “Let me guess… An updated kitchen?”

“See, this is why you’re the most intelligent being in the whole universe! Let me just show you these new counters and back splash tiles I had in mind, you’d agree that they’ll make our kitchen seem that more inviting!” He said giddily, fishing out his phone and scrolling through to find whatever he had in mind. She laughed but settled in to spend the evening discussing kitchen counters and tile patterns, more than happy to give Lance the time to plead his case.

She’d most likely end up caving, anyway; the man was surprisingly talented when it came to home decor, after all.

“Okay,” Dylan said as they reached the top of the staircase, eyes wide in awe at all the flashing colors and bright lights from the various available games, “what should we do first?”

Jasmine tapped her chin in thought then grinned at him. “Let’s go check out the prize counter! We can figured out what kind of prizes we want to get and figure out how many tickets we’ll need to get them!” She beamed.

He smiled and nodded, running along with her eagerly.

They pressed their faces up against the glass, ignoring the exasperated sigh of the employee manning the prize counter, and Jasmine pulled a small notebook and orange pen out of her panda-shaped fluffy purse, jotting down anything that caught her eye and everything Dylan pointed at.  They decided they each wanted a big inflatable mallet – 750 tickets each -; Dylan wanted a bunch of temporary bug tattoos – 5 tickets each, so she estimated around 40 would be good -; Jasmine wanted a really pretty paper fan that had a dragonfly on it – 35 tickets -; they both wanted a bunch of little erasers that were shaped like various animals – 10 tickets each, so she decided that 70 tickets each would be good for them -; Dylan wanted one of each of the pirate rubber ducks they had – there were five different ducks, valued at 20 tickets each -; Jasmine spotted a book filled with glittery stickers of ballerinas that she decided she had to have – another 60 tickets -; Jasmine also decided that she wanted to get a collection of five different pastel mini gel pens – 50 tickets for that little kit -; they each decided they wanted to get a squishy ball that, when squeezed, would show glitter and snowflakes floating in the liquid inside – another 80 each tossed in -; and, lastly, they looked up and saw the highest ticketed items. It was a large stuffed toy version of Voltron, sitting pretty and requiring 3,000 tickets to be earned.

The total they were staring down at was 5,085 tickets.

“Okay, so we each just need to get, like, 2,540 tickets or so! That’ll be easy peasy!” She laughed lightly.

“Really?” Dylan asked, a bit skeptical but still wanting to put his faith in his sister.

“Have I ever led you astray before?” She said excitedly, throwing an arm over his shoulders. He blinked and opened his mouth, only to have her gently press one hand to his lips. “Shh, little bro, it’s a rick-roll question.”

He knit his brows in confusion. “I don’t think that’s right,”

“Save your energy for massive ticket collecting!” She declared loudly with a laugh. He let out a slightly exasperated sigh but smiled regardless, appreciating his sister’s positive outlook and enthusiasm.

In the time it took them to get down to having only one token left between the both of them, they had only amassed a total of 541 tickets. Jasmine sighed as she bundled the tickets all together in a long stack, one of her hair ties on her wrist in preparation for binding them together. “Maybe if we wait until Mama goes to the bathroom we can convince Papa to get us some more tokens,” She mumbled before noticing Dylan’s attention waning, his body half turned to look at one of the machines a few feet away as if he were a moth and it was a new light bulb. “What’s up?” She asked curiously.

Instead of answering with words, he darted over to the machine and pointed inward, a grin turned up on his lips. “Look! It’s  _so cool_!” He beamed, jabbing his finger into the glass in a way that she was certain had to hurt at least a little bit.

She walked over and examined the machine in question curiously. It was a crane game like the ones in the mall or the grocery store, but the claw was much larger to accommodate the much larger plush prizes inside. She looked to see what he was pointing out so frantically and then chuckled a bit. Inside, poised at the top of the pile, was a wolf plush that looked to be about as big as Dylan himself. It was mostly a cherry red color with a white muzzle and belly. She looked from him to the doll, watching as he seemed to form an emotional investment in the stuffed toy, before dumping the final coin from the cup to her palm and dropping it in to the slot.

If she could just get the claw to clench around the wolf’s head, she should be able to get it. Papa was really good at these kinds of games and had given her that tip, along with some others. Once she had the claw positioned above the head, she darted to the other two sides of the machine that she could see through to make sure she had her shot lined up properly. A small nudge up and to the left and she knew she was perfect, which was good as the last second ticked away.

Her hazel eyes were bright with satisfaction as she watched the crane lower and clench around the wolf’s head, but then widen in shock as, just as the crane was about to hover over the prize drop, the wolf came loose and plopped back on to the pile. She stared at the claw as it retreated to its usual position then looked over at Dylan. He had been so pumped when she’d managed to get a grip on its head but his smile had turned less giddy and more sympathetic. “Aw, well,” He said, shoulders sagging a bit.

Jasmine knelt down beside the little prize door and started rummaging through her little purse. “We aren’t leaving here without that stuffed animal,” She declared suddenly, pulling her cell phone out.

“What are you gonna do?” Dylan asked.

“Just gonna tilt the odds in our favor a little bit. I’ll need your help, though,” She said happily, lightly tapping the door curiously. It wasn’t made of heavy wood and easily swung open like the smaller crane games, but she had been expecting that to a certain extent. It was most likely an electrical door, kinda like a garage door, that opened when prompted to by the crane or the bottom of the platform determining the weight or something like that. “Do you think you could crawl in to here?” She asked, indicating the prize area.

Dylan peeked up on his tip-toes to get a better look then hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, but the door is locked,” He said as he walked back around to his sister.

She grinned up at him as she pulled something up on her phone. “Not for long, it won’t be,” She hummed before carefully leaning her phone against the door and the small ledge in front of it and clicking something on her screen. Her entire phone vibrated and sparked for a moment, sending the electrical current straight through the door, and the two were rewarded with a small clicking sound. After it was done crackling a bit, she plucked her phone up, returned it to her purse and pressed on the door. It slid up and down at her command, her grin at her brother’s awe-stricken expression the definition of smug satisfaction.

Their phones had been hand-crafted by their Mama and included some interesting features; including a feature that allowed the phone to be used as a taser, just in case.

“Did you just-?”

“I just amped up the voltage on the taser feature and used it to short circuit the door. Now hurry up, before any of the adults notice,” She said hurriedly, propping the door up easily, stealing a glance around them to make sure they hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention.

That was all the prompting Dylan needed to scramble inside.

Once he was inside the little prize area, he used the sides to hoist himself up and over, sinking into the huge pile of cushy toys. He grinned and chuckled as he slunk a little farther down, curious to see what other goodies were hiding further in. He then popped back up beside the plush toy of her dreams and swept it into his arms eagerly, pressing his face against its and ignoring the small sting that came from his forehead being shoved right into the large plastic eyes. “I’m gonna call’em Wolfie!” He proclaimed happily.

“Sounds good. Now hurry up out of there; we should probably go see what we can actually get with the tickets we won,” Jasmine advised, keeping the door propped open with her foot while she used her hands to get her messy caramel locks put back up and out of her face.

Dylan started towards the door again before he paused and looked around. There were tons of other kids milling about and he could see some of them watching him, their expressions all various emotions; but, mostly, he saw expressions of envy and amazement at his position. “Wait, Jas,” He said as he dropped Wolfie down in to the prize area for her to take, “I think I have an idea on how we can get more tickets.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Ultimately, the night had been a roaring success for Lance McClain-Holt. The kids were doing well academically – which was a stress he knew all too well from his own time in academia – and were happily playing about in the pizza place. Pidge had listened to him about the kitchen upgrade and acquiesced, admitting that it would be nice to freshen things up a bit. He would be able to call his cousin Julio tomorrow morning to let him know to go ahead and order all the supplies so that he could start on the remodel Monday afternoon like they had been planning. He took a deep breath and let out a contented sigh, tucking his arms behind his head as he awaited Pidge’s return from paying the check. He watched as a little girl came running in from the game area, totting a large pink and green spotted giraffe toy that’s head wobbled about frantically with her every move.

“Daddy! Lookit, lookit!” She said exuberantly as she skid to a stop at the table next to Lance’s. He chuckled a bit to himself, knowing what it was like to watch your child stumble over their words in excitement over winning a prize out of one of those stupid games. He still remembered the first time that Jasmine had ever won a plush from one of those and how her eyes had lit up like the night sky on New Year’s Eve.

“That’s great, Mari!” He said happily, ruffling her hair. Lance turned his attention back to the staircase, curious to see if either of his own little ones was heading down, and instead raised an eyebrow as two more children came tearing down the staircase with equally large stuffed animals flailing too and fro in their grasp. “You’re getting really good at those games, aren’t you?”

The little girl shook her head as child after child began running down, all of them carrying stuffed animals. A feeling of dread settled like a rock in the pit of his belly, more seeming to add on to a stack as he watched kid after kid proceed forward. “I didn’t win it, Daddy! There’s two kids up there and if you give them your tickets then they get it for you!”

“Oh, so a bigger kid is winning it for you?” Her father asked, clearly not seeming to pick up on what she was laying down for him. But Lance was.

“No, the boy is inside the game! If you give the girl the tickets then he’ll give you the toy you want! It’s so cool!” She gushed excitedly.

Lance stood up and tore off towards the stairs, Pidge calling after him in confusion.

He made sure to be careful to not bowl over the long line of thrilled young tots heading down to show off their latest plush prize to their parents. Even in a panicked mindset, he certainly didn’t want to hurt any of the kids. Once he reached the top, he followed the ant-like line over to the crane game and balked at the sight before him.

Jasmine was leaning back against a large white and yellow striped deer as if it were a lounge chair, with a large red and white wolf plush to her left. Her purse was overflowing with a plethora of tickets and there were even more clenched in her right hand. “I only have 25 tickets… Is that enough?” The young boy standing before her asked meekly.

“That’s plenty! Which one do you want?” She asked happily, pushing up a bit and gesturing to the glass with a dramatic flourish of her hand.

The boy hummed, pressing his face to glass and shifting from side to side. “That one! The big green elephant!” He said enthusiastically, pointing at hint of green trunk peeking out between two other stuffed toys.

Suddenly, Dylan’s head popped up form beneath the slowly dwindling pile of plush toys. “As you wish, good sir!” He declared, snapping back with the Garrison salute, before diving back down in to retrieve said doll.

A low whistle behind him caused Lance to jump in shock. “Quite the clever little operation they got figured out over here, huh?” Pidge laughed, her arms crossed over her chest and hip cocked up a bit. The grin on her face was a mix of smug and impressed that was absolutely inappropriate in this situation.

“Our son is stuck in the crane game machine!” Lance snapped shrilly, gesturing wildly with a flail of his arms. Jasmine flinched in surprise and turned to look at them with wide-eyes, handing the elephant over to its new owner. It took a second before she schooled the shock look into a pleasant smile and slowly stepped towards them, slipping the hand holding the tickets behind her back as she approached.

“Mama, Papa! How nice of you to come check on us!” She said warmly.

“No point hiding the tickets, Jas,” Pidge said with an amused laugh, “we already saw them. You having fun in there, Dylan?” She leaned over and unfurled her arms to wave at the crane game.

“It’s like a ball pit but even better!” Dylan shouted back, his voice a bit muffled by the thick glass surrounding them.

“ _Don’t encourage them_! Something  _bad_  could happen to him in there! He could  _get stuck_  or  _be arrested_  or something!” Lance barked frantically, looking mortified by Pidge’s relaxed demeanor.

“ _What_ , exactly, would they arrest him for? Being a  _kid_?”

“ _Theft_! Or maybe even  _extortion_!”

“They aren’t forcing the other children to give them the tickets under threat to their lives or livelihood; they simply running a relatively basic example of what any kind of economy is like. And the worst they’d do in relation to the theft thing is tell them they’re being bad and maybe make us pay them back for all the dolls they’ve taken out. Not all  _that_  terrifying, if you ask me,” She shrugged. He opened his mouth to speak again but she reached up and calmly pressed one finger to his lips, her grin becoming a bit more playful. “And do you really want to die on this hill, Lancey? Considering I recall a certain someone going fountain-diving with me a very long time ago for the greater good of retro video games.”

His posture relaxed a bit and she could see him trying to bite back a smile at the memory. “This is different,”

“And how is that?”

“Because our parents weren’t around to be freaked out by what we were doing,” He mumbled back, but she could see that she’d won. His lips had slipped upward and were now twisted in to a small grin of his own. She leaned up and gave him a light peck as a consolation prize.

“Do you want us to put all the toys back and give the other kids back their tickets, Papa?” Jasmine asked, her tone quiet in a mix of guilt and sadness. Lance looked down to see Dylan climbing out through the prize door, darting over and launching himself at the big red wolf.

“I’m  _not_  giving Wolfie back! He’d gotten used to me! Nobody else would take care of him right!” He cried out in protest, lips sent in what was probably supposed to be a scowl but read more as a pout.

Both of them shifted uneasily as he looked them over, eyes meeting his gaze. They were both clearly sincere about being apologetic for freaking him out, but those eyes begged for some kind of benevolence. “You don’t have to do that, you two. I’ll let you keep everything this time, but in the future I don’t want  _either_  of you doing things like this  _ever again_ , okay?” Lance asked, putting on his I’m-A-Firm-But-Fair-Father voice. They both looked up at him with big joyous eyes and launched at him, clutching his legs and proclaiming him to be the world’s best Papa ever.

They were lucky they had both inherited their Mama’s big, sweet puppy dog eyes; he still couldn’t say no to her when she used them.

They headed over to the prize counter, Lance carrying both of the giant stuffed animals for the kids while they tossed stack after stack of tickets up on to the counter. The employee – the same one from when they first came up – counted out the tickets for them. Ending up with more than they’d originally been aiming for, the two immediately pointed at the Voltron plush and then began speaking in hushed whispers about what additional goodies they each wanted. While they did that, Lance decided he should at least warn the poor teenager about the crane game being incapacitated. Last thing they needed was for another kid to pull the same thing as Dylan but actually get hurt, after all. “Um, so, the big crane game? The prize door on it kinda shorted out and could be an issue,” He said with a nervous laugh.

The employee scoffed a bit as he shifted through something on the screen of his cell phone. “No duh. The huge cult of squealing kids over by the crane game was  _kinda_ hard to miss. And  _yours_ weren’t exactly  _discreet_  about what they were doing,” He scoffed bluntly.

Lance blinked then scowled, shifting the two plushies under one arm and setting the other hand on the counter. “Wait, so let me get this straight… You  _knew_  my son was in that machine for  _who knows how long_ , and  _didn’t_  do anything about it?”

The teen shrugged. “Dude, I’m off in, like, an hour. My ability to care is officially gone,” He said. He then perked up as Jasmine and Dylan motioned him over, shoving his phone back in his pocket and putting a polite mask on. Lance huffed a bit but decided to let it go this time.

After getting a couple bags filled with various goods, they headed back down to their table to get a pizza cookie. Lance ran most of the goods to the car so that they wouldn’t have to attempt to make room at the booth for it all. He smiled as he walked back in, watching as Pidge dabbed a napkin into the pitcher of water and helped Dylan apply a tattoo of a dragonfly to his right cheek. Jasmine was holding a napkin to her arm, bouncing with excitement in her seat as she waited the necessary time to peal it off.

Lance slipped back into his seat and smiled as his son nudged a tattoo towards him. “I got one for you and Mama too!” He beamed excitedly. Blue eyes softened as they shifted from his beaming children to the smiling shark tattoo settled in front of him.

They were a bit of a handful from time to time, but he wouldn’t change them for the world.


	2. A Little Two-Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a very special night for a very special lady, and Lance wants to make sure it’s absolutely perfect for her.

“Jasmine, if you don’t sit still you’re going to get burned,” Pidge tutted lightly, setting the hairbrush aside and starting to reach for the curling iron. She could already feel the heat pumping off of the thing and she found herself glad she’d insisted on Jasmine taking a shower so her hair would still be wet when they got to work.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so excited!” The younger gushed, glancing over at the new dress hanging from the towel rank beside her. “Do you really think I’ll look nice in the dress?”

Pidge smiled as she carefully separated a portion of her hair and started curling the long locks around the iron, being carefully to pull it tight but not too much so. “Oh, absolutely, sweetheart. You picked it out yourself, after all,”

“But will it really fit? I mean, it just came in last night and I haven’t had a chance to try it on,” She fretted, shifting to try and look behind her but halting when her mother set one hand atop her head and carefully directed her head back to staring at her own reflection.

“Jassie, you need to sit still or I’m going to end up singeing your ear,” She said, unfurling the iron slowly and beaming proudly at the bouncy little curl the hair had formed. She then started up on the next one. “And besides, we checked the size three times before we ordered, and checked it two more times since then. I’m sure it’ll fit just fine.” She had just finished curling her daughter’s brown locks and zipped her dress when there was the chime of the doorbell. She blinked a bit then wrinkled her nose. “We weren’t expecting any company… Let me go see what’s going on while you finish getting ready, okay?” She asked, setting the glittered flats they’d picked to go with the dress down in front of her.

“Mkay!” Jasmine said excitedly, not even looking at her as she turned and twirled in front of the mirror, grinning like mad at her reflection. Pidge flashed a fond look before heading down the stairs and to the door as it was rung yet again.

When she opened the door, she was greeted by a large bouquet of roses being shoved in her face. She blinked then chuckled a bit. “Well isn’t this a surprise?” She laughed, reaching out to take it and look at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“First impressions are everything, they say,” He teased lightly, a small plastic container with a cute white corsage in it clutched in his other hand. “I take it you’re Jasmine’s older sister?” He tacked on a wink and Pidge let out a sharp bark of laughter.

“You’re being really serious about this, aren’t you?” She teased, stepping aside and motioning Lance inside, taking in the slicked-back hair and recently pressed tuxedo. About a month ago, Jasmine’s school had announced they’d be doing a Father-Daughter dance in the spring for all the girls to participate in, with a caveat that, in the case of single mother families the mom was allowed to attend instead. Lance and Jasmine had both been absolutely thrilled at the idea, rambling on to Pidge near-nightly about how excited they both were. And she had known that Lance had been insistent about wanting to do certain things with Jasmine after they left that night, but she certainly wasn’t expecting him to go this far.

“As a parent, I have a certain standard to set for her. And I intend for her to expect her suitors to treat her like the princess that she is,” He beamed happily as he walked through the threshold. Pidge opened her mouth to speak before there was the quiet sound of a throat being cleared, causing them both to turn their attention to the large, reclining chair in the front room and the tiny figure seated there. “Ah, I see I have to have a discussion with the man of the house first.”

“I’ll go finish getting Jasmine ready. Good luck; he’s a hard nut to crack,” She said with a playful laugh, making a brief stop in the kitchen to put the bouquet in the vase on the kitchen table.

Settled in the lounge chair, Dylan sat with his bubble-pipe and a fake mustache stuck just under his nose. He slowly blew into his pipe, a large bubble floating up into the air around him, then plucked it from his mouth and indicated the couch with the hand clutching the pipe. “Please, sit down, Papa,” He said patiently.

Lance chuckled but did as he was instructed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McClain-Holt,” He said politely.

Dylan blew another bubble with his pipe and hummed. “I just want to know what you have on the itinerary for my sister, son,” He said.

“Well, I was planning to take her to dinner, then to the dance, and then bring her home before it got too late. Just a nice night out,” He chuckled lightly.

“And what time do you plan to have her home by? We have an established curfew in this house, I’ll have you know,” The younger tutted thoughtfully.

“Oh really? And what time would that be?” He asked with a sly grin.

For a moment, his son stared at him with wide-eyes. He hadn’t been expected to get called on his bluff; the kids typically weren’t out after sundown without one of their parents, and if they did want to play outside they stayed in the backyard. “7:30!” He declared after a moment.

“The dance doesn’t even start until 7. How about we just see how the night goes?” He suggested.

The younger huffed a bit, his cheeks flushing a bit and making the freckles along the bridge of his nose stand out. “ _I’m_  the mature-looking one here! I get to make the rules!” He protested.

“Are you saying that because of the facial hair?” Lance snorted.

Dylan scowled a bit before reaching up to give his lip tuft a small pat. “Not all men are blessed with a moustache-worthy upper lip. This is simply my cross to bear, Papa,” He said with an almost wistful smile.

“Dylan, it’s a fake,”

“Which is just  _more_  proof of the strength of my upper lip!”

“What are you going on about now?” Jasmine whined as she headed down, taking the steps two at a time in her excitement. Lance perked up and stood, taking in a little gasp, lips twisting up in a goofy grin at how cute his daughter looked. Her long brown locks had been carefully curled into a crown of bouncy curls that sprung with each step. The dress she had picked was a sleeveless one in an icy shade of blue, with little flowers and their stems stitched along the upper part of the dress. There was a little belt of silver flowers separating the top of the dress from the skirt, and the skirt reached her knees in the front and slowly sloped down in the back. She beamed at him and did a quick twirl to show it off, spinning easily on the heels of her glittery silver flats. “How do I look, Papa?”

“Absolutely amazing, baby doll,” He cooed, sounding a bit choked up for a moment. His little girl looked like a little lady and he was, admittedly, feeling a little overwhelmed by it. He pushed himself up and headed over, kneeling in front of her and popping over the corsage. She watched him with her head tilted curiously as he took her hand, carefully looping it on to her wrist and then beaming at her. “Just needed the final touch!”

She looked at the flower then giggled and launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. “It’s so pretty, Papa!”

He chuckled and squeezed her back before carefully letting her go and taking her hand. “We should get going. We have a reservation to catch, after all,” He mused lightly.

“A reservation?” She asked curiously.

“Yup, we’re going to a really nice restaurant for dinner!” He said happily. She gasped then squealed excitedly, grabbing her little panda-shaped purse off the other end of the couch and darting to the front door. He laughed and leaned over to press a quick peck to Pidge’s lips as he rose. “Any plans for the two of you tonight?” He asked, indicating she and Dylan.

She shrugged. “Probably order a pizza, maybe have milkshakes and a movie or something,” She said casually.

He smiled and nodded, sneaking in one more kiss before heading over to the front door that was now wide open, Jasmine hanging on the doorframe as she tried to maintain some semblance of patience with her waiting. “Hopefully you two have as much fun as we do,” He mused, waving at his son. His answer was a slow nod of his head and a slight wave of the bubble-pipe. He rolled his eyes before carefully shutting the door behind him.

Pidge side-eyed Dylan as she came to stand behind the couch, leaning on the back of it with crossed arms. “Wanna go on a joyride to the Space Mall while they’re gone?”

He looked at her with an almost-suspicious glint in his eyes. “Can I wear my moustache?”

“If you really want to, sure,” She shrugged.

“And can we go in the Green Lion?”

“Oh absolutely. If we’re going, we’re going in style,”

“Let’s do this,” He beamed.

………………………………………………………………………………………

Jasmine leaned back in the cushy booth seat of the restaurant table with a happy little sigh, already pretty satisfied with how her night was turning out. Papa had let her choose what they listened to on the way to the restaurant, and their server had called her “Miss” and complimented her dress, which had her lighting up like a Christmas tree. And then Papa had even let her order from the grown-up menu! “Hope you still have some room,” Lance mused as their server returned, carrying with them two small white dishes.

“What’s that?” She asked, shifting to sit completely upright again, adjusting the little cloth napkin across her lap.

The server giggled as she set one small dish in front of each of them. “It’s a little dessert called Crème Brule,” She said gently, shifting her attention to their empty cups. “Would you like some more tea and soda?”

“Waters would be good, actually. Oh, and with no ice, if possible,” Lance said happily, reaching over to tug Jasmine a little closer beside him, turning his attention back to her as she stared at the little orange glass-like top of the desserts. The server nodded and scampered off, giggling at how cute it was to see a doting dad. “You look kinda befuddled there.”

“Why is there glass on top of the Crème Brule?” She asked, lifting her head to look up at him curiously.

“It’s not glass, darling,” He mused, picking up her spoon and offering it to her, “it’s a little sugar topping. It’s heated up really hot so that it looks and reacts kinda like glass, but if you tap it a little, it’ll crack and you can eat it.”

She looked at him and then down, doing as he had instructed. She blinked a bit in surprise when it shuddered and cracked under her tapping, a little bit of ice cream starting to leak out. He smiled and nodding, imitating the action with his own and then scooping out some ice cream with the casing in it, then plopping it in his mouth. She turned her attention back to her own, taking his lead and then plopping a bit in her own mouth. She perked up and grinned up at him happily as she swallowed. “It’s really good, Papa!”

“I’m glad. Only the best for my little girl,” He hummed happily, perking up as the server returned with their waters and the bill. He calmly plucked his wallet out and handed the card over. “Thank you so much. You’ve been wonderful to us, Nicole.”

Nicole blinked then giggled happily, surprised and flattered to have one of her patrons call her by name. Normally it was always just “Miss this” or “Miss that”! “Oh, it was my pleasure! Especially for such a well-mannered pair as yourselves,” She hummed, reaching over to grab the empty plates she’d missed on her last pass. She set them on her tray then tilted her head at them. “So, let me guess… Ditched out on a wedding after party?” She asked.

Jasmine giggled and shook her head. “Papa and I are going to a dance!” She announced happily.

“I’m sure you’ve got a couple others here under the same circumstances,” Lance suggested, taking a sip of his water.

Nicole hummed thoughtfully. “Not in my section, but I did see a few other nicely dressed people over in Andrew’s, so it’s always a possibility,” She mused.

“We were still better because we had you as our server though!” Jasmine insisted before shoving a generous spoonful of her treat into her mouth.

Lance chuckled and nudged her water closer to her. “You might want to take a break there, baby doll, or you’ll get a brain freeze,” He advised as Nicole slipped away with a small mumble of how sweet the young girl was. He then plucked a bill from his wallet and set it under his near empty glass of tea, beaming to himself. Nothing warmed his heart – or guaranteed a generous tip - more than when servers they had at restaurants were polite and engaged with his kids.

Jasmine hummed and took her drink, snagging a small sip from her drink before returning to attacking her ice cream. He smiled and chuckled, watching how she was an odd mix of ravenous and considerate with her dessert, going to town on the treat while also being sure to stay over her plate and keep any dribbles from getting on her dress. She turned to stare at him, hazel eyes big and wide with her excitement. “Can we listen to the Little Mermaid soundtrack on the way to the dance?” She asked.

He smiled and nodded. “Your call; it’s your night, after all,” He mused happily.

………………………………………………………………………………………

The gymnasium was overflowing with little girls and their parents, all milling about in small clicks talking or others forming a throng in the center dancing to the beats the DJ is playing. A quick double-check confirmed to Lance that, yes, that was indeed the P.E. teacher manning the turntables. He briefly entertained the idea of going over and making a snarky comment at the guy but opted against it as Jasmine tugged him along to try and find the members of her little group that were also attending. Jasmine made a face as they wandered past one group of girls, one girl that he would call the leader surrounded by four other girls. She and Jasmine stare one another down the whole time. “Who was that?” Lance asked quietly, once the showdown had passed.

“That’s Tricia Porter,” She informed him with a quiet harrumph. Ah, he recognized that name; she was the girl who had invited the entire third grade, excluding Jasmine and her friends, to a barbeque a few weeks back.

“We don’t like her. Got it,” He agreed eagerly, knowing exactly the sting his daughter and her group had probably felt at the diss.

“And it’s a stupid reason she didn’t invite us, too! It’s because Tammy wouldn’t let her borrow her little headband with the big, sparkly rose on it!” She declared.

“Well, that’s just ridiculous,” He agreed, smiling and waving at Tammy and her mama, Rita, as they approached.

“Exactly! Tammy’s mom made it for her, too!” Jasmine huffed.

Tammy smiled shyly at the mention of her name. “You saw Tricia on your way over, didn’t you?” She asked. Jasmine hummed and nodded as two of her other friends, Renee and Jessie, with their dad a few paces behind them.

“Oh, my goodness, Jas! Your dress is so cute!” Jessie squeaked excitedly, grabbing her friend’s hands and spinning her in a small circle, letting out a drawn-out sigh as she watched the skirt of Jasmine’s dress twirl. Renee beamed and clapped her hands as well. Their parents ran their own private boutique, so it made sense that they’d be so keen on the motions of the dress.

“Hey, Paul,” Lance said with a small smile, waving at their dad. He and Pidge had met Paul and his wife, Monica, through the daycare center the kids went to when they were too young to go to elementary yet. Jas and the twins had become friends almost immediately, always playing and sitting together. When Lance had picked Jasmine up, Paul had left a small note for he and Pidge with their contact information, explaining that if they ever wanted to get the kids together for a play date outside daycare he and Monica would love to coordinate. Monica and Pidge had become fast friends, bonding over their shared love of science, as Monica herself was a Physics professor. Lance and Paul shared a love of soccer and retro games like foosball and air hockey.

Paul smiled and waved back. “Hey, Lance. Take it you managed to convince your boss to let you off early for the day after all?”

Lance smirked. “Well, I had a compelling argument, if I do say so myself,”

“You bluffed and said that there was an interstellar crisis again, didn’t you?” Rita asked with a smug smirk, one hand on her hip.

Lance shrugged. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” He mused then chuckled a bit at Rita. “You clean up pretty nice when you feel like it; I am a little surprised that you’re the one that came, though. I was expecting it to be Minnie, what with her being on the PTA and helping to organize the event.”

“Well, she was, but then she fractured her foot the other night and has to stay off of it for at least two weeks. So, I had Paulie boy here help me out with getting a get-up picked out, and here we are,” She mused lightly, smiling down at Tammy before reaching over to carefully tuck a loose strand of her daughter’s hair behind her ear. “Couldn’t have my little girl miss out on something she’s been looking forward to all week, after all.”

Rita and her wife, Minnie, were another set of parents he and Pidge had befriended through their children. Their family had only moved in to town just shy of a year ago, living a block away so that their backyard was facing the McClain-Holts. One day, their family dog, Scruffles, had gotten out and somehow managed to dig his way into their backyard instead. Jasmine and Lance had gone to return the small pooch and from that moment forward, Tammy and Jasmine were friends, then causing all four girls to become as thick as thieves. Rita was a surgeon whom had moved the family so she could take a position as the top surgeon at the hospital in town, while Minnie was a part-time vet tech who spent more time looking after their kids.

Paul offered a bashful smile. “Aw, shucks, it was my pleasure!” He beamed.

Lance chuckled before looking back over at the small congregation of dancers as a new, upbeat song started up. He reached down and set a hand on Jasmine’s shoulder, causing her to look up at him curiously. He indicated the dance floor with a jerk of his thumb. “You wanna go show these fools how it’s done?”

She grinned widely and nodded, eagerly taking his hands and letting him lead her along. He twirled her and dipped her throughout the next couple of songs, keeping up with her steps and laughing at the exuberant joy on her face. He walked her through the steps of a few sillier dances when the tracks came on; specifically, he enjoyed showing her how to do “The Macarena” and “The Chicken Dance”. They finished off their first round on the dance floor with a slow song that Lance recognized from he and Pidge’s wedding, though he couldn’t recall the title or artist.

They were heading over to get some drinks from the concession table when he spotted little Tricia, arms crossed and a sullen look on her face, as she stared up at her own dad, who was turned with his back to her arguing with someone on the phone. “Daddy, come on! I wanna dance!” She whined.

He looked back over his shoulder at her with an annoyed scowl. “Patricia, Daddy is dealing with some very important business. You need to be patient,” He huffed back.

“But it’s already been an hour!” Tricia whimpered back quietly.

Lance scowled a bit as he poked a straw into a Capri Sun and offered it to Jasmine, watching the other two worriedly. Jasmine looked from him to Tricia and her dad, and then back up at her own dad. “I’m glad I have the world’s greatest Papa,” She said with a small smile, taking a sip of her juice.

He blinked then smiled back widely, his eyes watering a bit at the look of pure adoration on his daughter’s face. For a moment, he was taken back to the first time she ever smiled at him, swaddled in a pastel orange blanket and nestled into the crook of his arm. He’d nearly wept when she did, letting out a happy coo at him, eyes bright and mouth wide in a toothless smile. He had nearly wept, then, too. He knelt down beside his daughter now, carefully pushing her bangs away, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And I’m lucky to have the world’s greatest baby girl,” He mused, warm and happy. Jasmine blushed a bit but smiled just the same, taking another sip of her drink.


End file.
